


Part of the Plan

by basking



Category: Tackey & Tsubasa
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 06:44:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basking/pseuds/basking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The voyage to the Inter-Kingdom Conference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part of the Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dearest Jule of the Magical Land of Sharing and General Excellence](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Dearest+Jule+of+the+Magical+Land+of+Sharing+and+General+Excellence).
  * Inspired by [Past the Horizon, Beyond the Sea and Through the Sands of Time](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/24498) by kurikaesuharu. 



A low moan from the wooden rafters above obliterates the last of Tsubasa’s patience. He climbs out of their bed with a low huff and crosses the room to the door, leaving Hideaki snoring into his pillow. Everything that needs to be done for the conference is already finished, but there must be some extraneous details no one has done yet.

The deck of the ship is dark with rainwater, streaked with slices of moonlight. Closer to the bow of the ship, a few of the crew stand idle with drink in hand. Yamapi, who’s joining them on this voyage for some reason, is cuddled around the mast with his pants gone. Judging by the red flush on his face, he’s had his first real encounter with intoxication. Hideaki will be adorably horrified, no doubt.

Tsubasa checks in with Chancellor Nakai, but he assures Tsubasa there’s nothing left to do. “Go keep the prince warm,” he adds, smirking. “This ship can get drafty.”

Blushing, Tsubasa retreats back out onto the deck. The ship had once been stolen by an enemy kingdom and kept in their harbor as a symbol of the weakness of Hideaki’s kingdom. Weeks after giving birth to Hideaki, the Queen strategized with her army and stole it back. It was then redressed and named the crown jewel of the naval fleet and became the vessel every member of the royal family uses when traveling by sea. “My mom calls it Prince, since she recaptured it after I was born,” Hideaki had explained, smiling.

Tsubasa trails his hand fondly along the railing up to the wheel where Mabo’s posted.

“‘Lo,” Tsubasa says.

Mabo lifts his eyebrows, his lips tugging up in wry amusement. “I didn’t think I’d see you until tomorrow afternoon.”

Tsubasa shifts his weight and swallows the exasperated noise in his throat. It’s been nonstop since they started traveling, the crew ragging on him and Hideaki. To be fair, however, they _have_ been a little…demonstrative. Their first night at sea, Hideaki tugged Tsubsa into his quarters to “show off the bed” and they’d stayed firmly put under lock and key until noon the next day. And every night since has been a variation on the first.

“I felt sick,” Tsubasa says. “I’m not used to sea travel.” Too much travel, not enough sea, in his opinion.

“Ahh, yeah. It sucks getting used to it, but once you do it enough, it’ll get easier. Soon you’ll even get to where you miss it.”

“I don’t think so,” Tsubasa says resolutely. He’d bet Hideaki he could swim there and get there faster, but Hideaki had laughed at the idea and then looked deeply worried when Tsubasa insisted, so Tsubasa’d let it go. (He still thinks he could, though. Ships are lumbering, cumbersome junk heaps compared to the swiftness and agility of a merman. Even a slightly altered one.)

“I’ll try to steer her more gently,” Mabo says, grinning. “Now get on back to the prince before he wakes up and freaks out.”

Tsubasa laughs. “How do you know he’s asleep? He could be awake right now for all you know. He’s very industrious.”

“You wouldn’t be here if he was awake,” Mabo says, smirking.

True enough.

“Hey,” Mabo says, lifting a finger off the wheel to point at Tsubasa. “So, before we left the harbor, we heard some talk of ships running into trouble in this area, so I have to focus,” Mabo says. “Wanna bring me some tea?”

Tsubasa nods and hops down from the ledge. The ship’s galley is a little bit of a nightmare to him, but Mabo has been a kind friend on the journey so far. Steeling himself, he wanders below deck and endures the filth and clutter to find the jar of expensive tea leaves Hideaki brought on board as a gift for the crew.

“Tsubasa?”

Amused, Tsubasa cranes his neck to see Yamapi wobbling down the staircase from the deck, one hand pressed to his stomach inside his yukata. His hair is streaked with something oddly-colored that Tsubasa doesn’t even want to try to identify.

“Are you still drunk?” he asks.

“Yes,” Yamapi says, wincing, and burps. “Definitely yes.”

Tsubasa points to one of the stools that’s been bolted to the floor. “Sit. I’m making tea.”

“No tea,” Yamapi moans, but sits obediently. “No water. No alcohol. Nothing in me for the rest of my life. Just let me die. Throw me overboard.” He grips the lip of the stool and whines when the ship pitches sharply; Tsubasa’s not a fan either.

“If I throw you overboard, you’ll have to drink the seawater,” Tsubasa points out.

Yamapi says, “Wha?” and then processes the words and nods. “Oh, yeah. That’s true. You’re smart, Tsubasa. Do you know how to make my head less murder-y painful?”

Tsubasa finally unearths the jar. It’d been hidden behind two sacks of flour. “Yes,” he says over his shoulder. “Don’t drink so much.” He sifts leaves into the pot and casts around for the kettle.

Yamapi makes a pathetic noise.

Tsubasa takes pity on him, hiding a smile. “Where did you throw up exactly?” he asks. “It wasn’t near our room, was it?”

“Overboaaaard,” Yamapi sings.

Tsubasa wrinkles his nose at the unintended disrespect paid to his home. Then he imagines Tsuyoshi surfacing from a brisk night swim to a headful of hot regurgitated sake and stifles a giggle.

“Hey, Tsubasa.”

“Mm?” With the kettle simmering, Tsubasa takes a spot across the counter from Yamapi. Despite the kid running around the palace all the time, Tsubasa rarely talks to him. He’s studying under one of Hideaki’s old tutors and constantly has his eye on one of the Queen’s ladies in waiting. It’s not surprising their interests don’t overlap much. Hideaki is just about the only thing they have in common.

Yamapi rocks back and forth on the stool, nods to himself, and blurts, “Where did you come from?”

Tsubasa almost lets his surprise show, but he covers it with a wide smile. Months ago, after Hideaki brought him back from the foam, they talked about the issue of Tsubasa’s lineage. Despite Hideaki’s widely-accepted quirk of taking in strays, the rules of royal marriage candidates are much stricter than the rules that apply to simple companions. As Hideaki explained, if they intend to marry someday (and he’s assured Tsubasa multiple times—at great length—that is indeed his intention, very ardently) they’ll need to present official documents of birth and lineage to satisfy the court.

Tsubasa has applied himself to the project with wild enthusiasm. Creating his human background, it turns out, is pretty entertaining.

Sometimes, when Hideaki has finished his princely duties, they’ll spend hours together drawing up Tsubasa’s fictional family tree. Most branches end up looking ridiculous and trace Tsubasa’s lineage to fantasy star kingdoms or Nagano’s left pinky. When they get serious, however, they always make sure to add a bit of truth to make things easier for Tsubasa to remember. For example, Tsubasa insisted on making Tsuyoshi his older brother and kept his parents’ names the same, but he allowed Hideaki to invent a plausible surname and town for them all to have come from.

They haven’t gotten it completely squared off yet (and Tsubasa’s still waiting on Hideaki’s official proposal), but Tsubasa remembers enough detail that he can probably convince Yamapi, if he wants to.

And then Yamapi asks, “Are you a fox spirit?” with a carefully nonchalant expression.

Every carefully-plotted detail flees Tsubasa’s mind. All he can do is laugh, helpless, into his arms.

Yamapi chuckles uneasily.

Tsubasa pulls himself together and wipes his eyes of the moisture that’s gathered on his lashes. He sighs, “That’s so cute,” on the tail end of one last small laugh. The kettle is screaming, so he climbs down off his seat and pours water into the teapot. Every few seconds, he lets out a chuckle at the thought of a bushy tail and pointed furry ears on himself. Hideaki might find it cute; he loves dogs, after all.

Musing on why Hideaki doesn’t have any dogs of his own, Tsubasa leaves Yamapi with a cup of tea and no answer to his question.

 

Hideaki’s stomach bottoms out with a sensation like falling that jars him out of a deep sleep. He doesn’t breathe, absolutely frozen, until he can feel Tsubasa’s arms around him, squeezing gently around his waist. Very slowly, he relaxes and presses forward into Tsubasa’s arms. He can’t remember his dream, only that he didn’t like how it ended. But it’s over now, and Tsubasa’s close, as always. Hideaki smiles and reflects back on the last several months; he can’t recall a single day that he’s woken up alone. Comforted, he tugs on Tsubasa’s shoulder until his face is tucked into the crook of Tsubasa’s neck and breathes in the scent of him mixed with a wash of salt air.

“You were out on deck again?” he murmurs.

Tsubasa kisses the top of his head and yawns. “I felt sick,” he says, sounding dreamy.

Hideaki pulls back, alarmed and awake in the space of a heartbeat. He touches Tsubasa’s cheek with the backs of his fingers, then presses his lips to Tsubasa’s forehead. He doesn’t feel feverish, and the color in his face seems healthy, but Hideaki has a sharp flashback to the blood-smeared trail on his floor shortly before Tsubasa—

Hideaki’s mind nearly shuts down, pierced by the memory of facing a future without him. If something were to happen to him again—

Tsubasa presses their noses together and makes a soft, worried noise. “I’m just boat sick,” he says. “When I don’t think about it, it’s not so bad.”

…Ah.

Hideaki forces himself to nod. He takes in a shallow breath and forces a sheepish smile, but he can’t stop himself from winding around Tsubasa and holding on hard. Tsubasa presses a line of kisses to his throat and strokes gently down his side, whispering reassurances too quiet to understand. The tension in Hideaki’s body slowly releases.

Sometimes, when he’s just on the edge of sleep or he can feel Tsubasa smiling at him across the room, the thing that binds them comes alive. It manifests in his heart and mind and tangled all around them, a searing, soothing heat that keeps them safe, somehow.

“Do you feel that?” Tsubasa murmurs.

Hideaki smiles against his cheek. “Yeah,” he says.

Worry settling into hesitant calm, he concentrates on relaxing his body while Tsubasa nestles his forehead comfortably against Hideaki’s. If the amount of moonlight pouring in through their window is any indication, they have hours still before sunrise. Acting on impulse, Hideaki mouths over Tsubasa’s bottom lip and tastes the ocean breeze with just the tip of his tongue. Tsubasa’s chest swells with a long, deep breath taken through his nose and Hideaki hears his name on the last curl of a sigh.

Graciously, Hideaki welcomes Tsubasa’s smooth thigh between his and concentrates on kissing Tsubasa until their lips are just slightly wet. The sounds Tsubasa’s making low in his throat urge Hideaki to pull him closer. Tsubasa responds by raising his thigh higher and canting his hips forward until his cock grazes Hideaki’s. With a shudder, Tsubasa whispers, “Hide-kun,” again and then, even softer, “I want to feel you inside me.”

Hideaki heaves in a sharp breath and opens his eyes to see Tsubasa’s face.

“What do you think?” Tsubasa asks.

Deceptively easy question considering Hideaki’s mouth has gone dry after mere seconds of imagining it.

When he has a modicum of control over himself, Hideaki surges in and kisses Tsubasa hard, his tongue sweeping in and then back out quickly. He sucks Tsubasa’s tongue into his mouth and skims over it with his teeth, giving voice to the raw noises tearing out of his throat. His arms strain to pull them even closer together.

Tsubasa responds to the ambush with a half-broken groan, hair in his eyes and fingers twisted around the sheets.

Hideaki withdraws just enough to whisper, “Hold me.”

Tsubasa looks up at him, panting, the depth of trust in his eyes devastatingly dear. Hideaki kisses his forehead and smiles when Tsubasa’s arms encircle him and squeeze.

This time when their lips touch, Hideaki lets Tsubasa lead and forces himself to follow the agonizingly slow pace Tsubasa sets. It’s clear Tsubasa wants to drag this out, and Hideaki thinks he’s entitled to choose, given his role in what they’re about to do. It also allows Hideaki to focus more on the immediate future — what they’ll use as lubricant, how long it’ll take to retrieve it, whether or not he can force himself to stop kissing Tsubasa long enough to get it — and less on the heat and pressure building lower on his body.

Suddenly, Tsubasa pulls back, away from Hideaki’s tingling lips, and takes a deep breath. “Be right back,” he says.

Hideaki makes a noise of protest, changing his mind in an instant – they don’t need the lubricant, they can just make out for another three hours, or practice that simultaneous blowjob trick they haven’t mastered yet. (Every time they’ve tried, Tsubasa always gets distracted and ends up with his forehead against Hideaki’s stomach, crying out and moaning instead of sucking.)

Even though he says none of that out loud, Tsubasa seems to sense it and grins at him. As he stands up, his cock holds upright, hard and stiff against his stomach. “I’ll be right back,” he promises. He leans down and kisses the tip of Hideaki’s erection, grasping it in a loose grip that makes Hideaki’s hips jump up, desperate to feel more of him.

Then he’s gone, bent over one of their trunks halfway across the room. Hideaki reaches down automatically.

And stops when Tsubasa glances over his shoulder.

Hideaki sticks out his tongue. “I’m waiting, I’m waiting!” he insists.

Tsubasa goes back to searching with an amused hum.

Robbed of direct stimulation, Hideaki closes his eyes and focuses on the promise of stimulation in the near future and the memory of overpowering sensations in the past few months. Hideaki’s stress level has steadily risen to match the enormity of his ambassadorial debut, and so Tsubasa’s had to find some creative ways of bringing Hideaki back down and keeping his mind evenly balanced between work and pleasure. As it turns out, Tsubasa’s a genius in bed.

Tsubasa rejoins him and kneels between Hideaki’s legs. He smiles at Hideaki, almost shyly, and then returns his attention to the lubricant. Several months ago, while reading one of the chef’s personal recipe books, Tsubasa felt inspired to create a lubricant that tasted better than the oils they’d grown accustomed to. He mixed six or seven different combinations of oils and sweet herbs, painting each one on his willing volunteer and licking it clean, until he hit on a recipe that he and Hideaki both agreed filled all the criteria of both taste and functionality.

Tsubasa pries the lid off the jar and frowns. Curious, Hideaki props himself up on his elbows and winces. The jar is almost empty, a gleaming trail down one side insinuating where the rest has gone. Hideaki and Tsubasa look at the floor where a dotted trail leads from the trunk to the bed. Distracted, Hideaki takes hold of his flagging cock and slicks a few beads of precum down over the head. Less distracted, Tsubasa bats at his wrist, then raises his eyebrows in a clear indication of delight.

“I know what to do,” he tells Hideaki proudly.

Before Hideaki can ask what that idea is — much less whether or not he’ll like it — Tsubasa’s set the jar aside and taken the head of Hideaki’s cock into his mouth. Heat strikes up Hideaki’s spine and shudders down his arms to his fingertips. He squeezes the sheets with a strangled noise.

“W-wait,” he manages. If Tsubasa wants him to last, he can’t keep this up — he’s too hard, too turned on. Hideaki tries to reach for the base of his cock, to pinch the skin or urge Tsubasa off for a moment, but Tsubasa only dives down deeper, slurping noisily around the base. Hideaki whimpers and arches hard into his mouth. Whatever Tsubasa’s new plan is, he’s not telling Hideaki, so Hideaki gives up and thrusts as smoothly as he can into Tsubasa’s mouth, trying to keep a consistent pace so Tsubasa doesn’t choke on him.

…Again.

Before long, Hideaki’s cock is almost painfully hard, the promise of orgasm hot and almost perfect. If he can just hold back a little longer. Unexpectedly, Tsubasa’s wet thumb finds his right nipple and drags roughly over it again and again until Hideaki gives one hoarse shout and fills Tsubasa’s mouth. The pleasure of it travels through his body, hitting every nerve and singing down his spine.

He doesn’t sink down from the high of it until he hears Tsubasa coughing.

Pushing himself up on shaking arms, Hideaki reaches out to touch Tsubasa’s cheek, biting his lip. Tsubasa’s got one hand under his mouth, cum dripping from his lips.

“Did I—?“

Tsubasa shakes his head once, holding his breath to wince back another cough. He wipes his lips with the knife edge of his hand and smiles through wet eyes. “Part of the plan,” he says, his voice raspy.

Hideaki frowns. “I don’t like this plan,” he says, stroking Tsubasa’s bangs back.

Tsubasa arches his head back and kisses Hideaki’s nearest two fingertips. “You will.”

Admitting to himself that Tsubasa is usually a good judge of what he likes, Hideaki leaves him in charge and closes his eyes to enjoy the next kiss. When he notices the large gap between them, Hideaki tries to tug Tsubasa closer to him, but Tsubasa fends him off with a few low sounds of protest. Confused, Hideaki settles for holding his waist, focusing on the wet swipe of Tsubasa’s tongue on his lips instead of trying to figure out whatever odd plan Tsubasa’s concocted that requires him to be so awkwardly positioned.

For what feels like several long minutes, Hideaki doesn’t think about anything beyond the sensations spreading across his body, and then Tsubasa wraps an arm around Hideaki’s shoulders and pulls their bodies flush together. Hideaki drags in a slow breath and then shivers at the slide of Tsubasa’s skin against his own. He pushes one hand shuddering up Tsubasa’s back to squeeze a fistful of the hair that’s grown long enough to touch his shoulders.

Hideaki traces his other hand lower, intending to cup Tsubasa’s ass, and finds Tsubasa blocking his way. As Hideaki makes the connection between the rapid motion of Tsubasa's hand and the wet noises it's making, his mind caves in on itself. Numb, he looks over Tsubasa’s shoulder and watches Tsubasa's fingers, painted slick with Hideaki's cum, sliding in and out of himself. Hideaki's grip on Tsubasa’s hair tightens, taking breaths in tiny increments.

“This was the plan?” he manages.

Tsubasa looks at him with his eyes half-lidded and nods. “I’ve been wondering what this would feel like for months,” he whispers.

Hideaki can’t not kiss him. Fortunately, it doesn’t take too much of Tsubasa’s concentration away from his task. He rides his own fingers smoothly, making the occasional gasp or soft noise smeared against Hideaki's lips whenever Hideaki maneuvers his hips in such a way that their cocks brush together. Every so often, Hideaki catches their cocks together and rubs precum up and down them before letting go. Soon, Hideaki's hard again, urged even harder by the minute by the hot touch of Tsubasa's cock leaking precum over his own. He thinks of their first time months ago, of the days they spent stretching Tsubasa and taking every precaution they could think of. Now, with a great deal of experience behind them and an equal amount of impatience to match it, Hideaki isn’t as nervous as he thought he’d be.

Instead, he feels like sucking on Tsubasa’s neck and skimming his teeth over the narrow curve of his shoulder. So he does.

By his desperate sounds and iron grip, Tsubasa can't kiss him deep enough or hold him close enough, and Hideaki feels the same way, almost choked with need. He squeezes his eyes shut and sucks Tsubasa's tongue, earning a rough moan and Tsubasa's hips canting against him. He strokes through Tsubasa's hair, sweat painting his fingers. Hearing Tsubasa sighing his name, Hideaki clenches his fingers.

“Now,” Tsubasa gasps, arching sharply. "Please." He opens his mouth around the first syllable of Hideaki's name but he doesn't quite make the sound. He locks both arms around Hideaki’s neck and slides their chests together, nipples glancing off each other. Tsubasa arches his neck, but Hideaki doesn’t see the expression he makes, distracted by the slice of pleasure that arcs through his body. Somehow, Tsubasa is even more sensitive there than he is, and ever since they realized that, they’ve taken advantage whenever possible.

One wrong move, however, and he’ll be finished. Tsubasa’s too sexy, sweat streaking down his face and neck, lips flush and wet—

Hideaki waits until a long shudder passes, sucks on his finger for a moment, then slides it into Tsubasa.

"No," Tsubasa moans, "more."

Hideaki smiles, laughing in a breath at the desperate edge in his voice. He adds another finger and curls them, expecting a reaction. Whenever Tsubasa's done it to him, it always makes him arch off the bed. He looks hopefully up at Tsubasa's face, but Tsubasa doesn't look any more or less desperate than he did a moment ago. With another bend of his fingers, Hideaki finds what feels like the spot Tsubasa's described as the place that makes him come the hardest and gently presses against it again, stroking it the way he remembers Tsubasa doing to him.

“Figure it out later,” Tsubasa pants, wriggling his hips to dislodge Hideaki's fingers. “I need _you_.”

Sheepish, Hideaki feels heat rise to his face and carefully removes his fingers. He kisses Tsubasa’s cheek, taken by the way his body is starting to shiver from want, and guides his cock by feel.

Tsubasa presses his forehead to Hideaki’s and smiles with a shaky sigh. “Finally,” he whispers, a little teasing.

Hideaki calls him cute and licks his nose. He thumbs what's left of the oil from the jar and coats his cock just before he starts to push in.

Tsubasa squeezes his neck, surprised, then shivers even harder. “ _Oh_ ,” he groans. “More. Now. _Please._ ”

Hideaki thinks of the last few months feeling Tsubasa ease into him so carefully, so slowly, and then slamming into him with such force that Hideaki couldn’t breathe in enough to make a sound. Rough works for him, and Tsubasa — despite appearances to the contrary — is more than equal to the task.

But for Tsubasa, Hideaki wants to go slower. He wants to take long, measured strokes, watch Tsubasa’s eyes shut and his lips shape Hideaki’s name without a sound. He wants to card his fingers through Tsubasa’s hair, lick the sweat on his neck, kiss his collarbones. Make him feel as precious and perfect as Hideaki holds him in his heart.

And there’ll be a day for that, someday. Today isn’t that day.

As soon as Hideaki’s halfway in, Tsubasa slings an arm around Hideaki’s neck and hauls him down to suck on his lower lip. Tsubasa rolls his hips and takes Hideaki’s stiff cock deeper into himself, making broken noises that send spears of cold and hot through Hideaki’s body.

“I love you,” Tsubasa manages, gripping Hideaki’s hair. “So much.” He takes a hoarse breath and moans, writhing to take Hideaki’s cock in faster. “You’re everything I—”

Whatever he wants to say is abruptly broken off into silence as Hideaki hooks his arms under Tsubasa’s thighs and pushes his legs up to his chest, thrusting in as deep as he can. Tsubasa yells, cut off by a gasp.

“ _There_ ,” Tsubasa pants. “ _That’s it._ ”

He’s tight, as Hideaki suspected, and the faster Hideaki thrusts into him, the tighter and hotter his body seems to get. Seeing Tsubasa so desperate for more, his lean body wet and taut and straining, Hideaki lets go of some of his restraint and slams into him, startling a strangled yell from them both. Positioned like this, every stroke he makes has Tsubasa thrusting back against him with knife-sharp arches, his mouth open around every groan and cry. When Hideaki can feel that he can’t hold back much longer, he takes a breath to say Tsubasa’s name and get his attention.

He doesn’t have to. Without prompting, Tsubasa pulls himself up by Hideaki’s neck and kisses him feverishly. He opens his eyes, panting into Hideaki’s mouth, and abruptly squeezes them shut with a thin, high cry as he comes over Hideaki’s stomach. The sight of him, combined with the sensation of Tsubasa’s body locking down on his rock-hard length, finishes him off with a white flash of pure heat and pleasure.

Hideaki has a moment, trembling and raw, where he believes he’ll never catch his breath again.

Tsubasa clings to him as they sink slowly back down. His body clenches around Hideaki’s oversensitive, softening cock, and Hideaki is fascinated by how much he enjoys the feeling. It’s sensual, in a strange way. He rests his head on Tsubasa’s chest, listening to his heart pound.

“I love you,” he says, feeling a smile spread across his mouth. He thinks of the rings he’s having made by a mermaid friend Tsuyoshi recommended. They’ll be made of pearl and gold, and whenever Hideaki can think of the right sentiment, there’ll be engravings on the inside, as well.

“Merfolk make very distinctive jewelry,” Tsuyoshi assured him. “He’ll know where they came from immediately.”

“That’s the idea,” Hideaki told him proudly.

Tsuyoshi seemed amused, but it can be difficult to tell with him, sometimes.

Tsubasa nuzzles his neck, then carefully eases his legs off of Hideaki’s arms. They’ll be making thorough use of the bath in a moment, but for now, Hideaki slowly pulls out and arranges them side-by-side facing each other. He pushes Tsubasa’s sweat-pointed bangs back and watches Tsubasa’s intelligent eyes studying every centimeter of Hideaki’s face. Hideaki smiles, twisting a longer lock of hair by Tsubasa’s ear around his finger. The thing that binds them coils tight inside Hideaki’s throat, hot through his veins, and cold down his back. He almost shivers, but Tsubasa’s hand quickly follows the same path, leaving searing heat in its wake.

It’s a perfect note to end on, as the warning bell in the crow’s nest peals out.

 

END PART I

**Author's Note:**

> Full credit for the AU used goes to the unparalleled kurikaesuharu, whose gorgeous work I reread on a regular basis. Thank you for letting me play in the sandbox, excellentface. :) <3


End file.
